


they're better off without you

by Amber_Flicker



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: ...it's sort of happy at least, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Depression, Gen, Oumota Week 2018, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Slash, Self-Worth Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, Trust Issues, just your usual 'the killing game was a simulation' au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 00:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14682477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amber_Flicker/pseuds/Amber_Flicker
Summary: Ouma might be back in reality, but he's still lost in his thoughts. Kaito tries to help.-Oumota Week 2018 - Day 5 - AU/Ending





	they're better off without you

**Author's Note:**

> AU notes: The audition tapes from the game were fake. The killing game was a simulation (but it was still a show broadcast for people to watch; there was just no actual murder), this is set after everyone is out, and they are living in the same building for rehabilitation purposes- it was decided it would be better to keep all of them together rather than immediately separating them and potentially causing more trauma. Everyone's personalities and backstories were about 80% truth, but some things were changed to make the game seem more 'interesting' and 'dramatic,' and it had the side effect of causing some issues with their memories even after being pulled out. I think that's all the relevant information needed.
> 
> Title from Therapy by All Time Low (which is a v good song for Ouma)

It had only been a week since everything had ended. Somehow it felt like longer than that, but also like it had happened not a day ago. It probably didn't help that he had nightmares every time he close his eyes. He barely bothered to keep track of the days anymore. Ouma didn't feel like it was worth the effort. What did he have to look forward to? Just more sessions with the therapist in which he carefully danced around how he was feeling and what he'd gone through? And they wouldn't let any of them _leave._ It was like he'd died in one prison only to be reborn into another.

He'd done so much, but all the plotting and hidden agendas and work hadn't really mattered in the end. It didn't matter that the plan he'd set in motion had done what it was meant to, because it had all been fake anyway. Just as fake as all the facades he put up to keep people from getting too close. He hadn't been smart enough to figure out they were being played ( _how could you have ever known that?_ some part of his mind asked even as he buried the thought). Even his past had been twisted, and he still couldn't pick out how much was real and how much was changed. Ouma couldn't rely on his mind for the first time, and it was _terrifying,_ because it was the only thing he had. He had no family, he had no friends, and he had no need to plan anything anymore, nothing to keep his from dwelling on the first two facts. He had nothing.

 

He sort of wished he really had died on that press.

 

A knock on the door startled him from his spiralling thoughts. He stared at the door, trying to figure out who could possibly be bothering him. He hadn't annoyed anyone recently- hadn't left his room in days, he realized, looking at the date. Had he really lost himself for that long? He assumed, then, that was why. Someone had insisted it be made sure he was still alive. Everyone was still off-kilter after everything, especially about the idea of death. Ouma hadn't thought that extended to _him,_ but it was likely just because they didn't want to seem heartless. Or perhaps they wanted to check if he was getting into trouble. That must be it. There was another knock, and he debated whether it was worth answering at all. The person would go away even if he didn't answer, wouldn't they? None of them actually cared. At least they could say they tried to talk to him, could say they weren't responsible, if Ouma were to commit su-

"Hey! I know you're in there, just open the door."

Of _all_ people- "I don't feel like it, Momota-chan." He said, trying to play it off as if he was being difficult, and not that he just didn't feel like moving. He couldn't bring himself to do much, anymore, outside of the occasional frantic attempt to do _something,_ anything, to feel less worthless. (It never worked.)

"I'll kick the door in if I have to."

"So forceful." Ouma had no doubt he would do just that. Better to get control over this situation now than later. "Fine, I'm coming."

He forced himself to get up. He wasn't sure if the tiredness was from the depression or the fact that he hadn't eaten in too long. The glimpse of himself he caught in the mirror told him his current appearance wasn't going to help him convince Momota to leave and that he was fine. Ouma looked as exhausted as he felt. No time to do anything about it, though. He opened the door. Momota pushed past him, closing it behind him. Well, he wouldn't be able to shut the door on him if things got too out of control now.

"See? Nothing wrong here. You can go."

"Don't tell me what to do." Momota didn't look like he quite believed that. Maybe his lies were losing their affect. Maybe he'd never been that good at them at all, and they'd only ever worked because of the game-

No. No thinking like that right now. "So, who sent you? Kirumi? Akamatsu? Maybe Saihara-chan?"

"What? No. Why do you think someone _sent_ me?"

"Isn't it obvious? You wouldn't do think to do it on your own," _you don't care enough to do that,_ "you're not smart enough for that."

"You're not going to get me to go away by insulting me, Ouma."

Of course it wouldn't be that easy. Nothing could ever go right, could it? "You can run off to your _sidekicks_ now, we both know that's where you'd rather be."

"I'm trying to help you here."

"Don't be stupid. I don't need help."

Momota sighed. "That's a lie, Ouma."

"You think you can figure out when I'm lying now? That's cute, Momota-chan." He was too used to playing things off as lies, too used to evading personal truths, so it was easy enough to pretend the words hadn't affected him. But it was one of just a few times anyone had managed to see though it all, from someone he'd least expected to be able to do so. Emotions had always been Momota's thing though, hadn't they? Ouma hated how vulnerable this whole mess had made him. 

"I know you had to do everything on your own in there, but you're not alone _now."_

"Aren't I?" 

"No. You just need to start letting the people who want to help you actually help."

Ouma laughed, the sound hollow. "You mean the therapists? Everyone else? _You?_ No one wants to help someone like me. Lying doesn't suit you, space idiot."

Momota stared at him for a moment, expression unusually blank. It was... unnerving. Like he was staring straight through Ouma. "Not everyone lies about everything, y'know."

"You'd be surprised! Everyone lies." And that, he thought, was one of the fundamental differences between them. Momota chose to see the best in people, whether they deserved that trust or not, but Ouma only saw the worst. The killing game had only proven it- when people were put into stressful situations, their real selves came out, and it was rarely anything like whatever mask they put on to hide it. People were simply not trustworthy. It was better to push them away before they took advantage of you.

If that meant he ended up with a hole of loneliness inside, well. It couldn't be helped.

Then again, Momota had never done anything to betray his trust, yet. He'd followed along with the plan, when he could've chosen not to once Ouma himself was dead. It didn't necessarily mean any of this concern was genuine, could've just been leftover guilt from what they'd done in the game, but he was the only one who'd bothered to check on him. It wasn't enough to give up anything about how he really felt, but if there was anyone who might at least care a little... Momota cared too much. Maybe, _maybe,_ that could include him too. He'd put up with Ouma this far.

"What do you want from me, Momota?" He let the act drop.

"You coming out of your room would be a start." 

Ouma... didn't want to do that. He didn't want to see everyone and have flashbacks to the killing game, he didn't want to be met with fake sympathy or outright hatred- and it _would _be one or the other- and he didn't want anyone to see what a mess he was right now. "I'm not feeling particularly social right now."__

___"Ouma, damnit-"_ Ah, now he was finally falling back into character. Momota had never been able to hold his temper well, not in the game and not out here, it seemed. "You don't have to have a conversation with anyone. Just... eat something, at least."_ _

__"And what? You're just going to keep everyone away from me?"_ _

__"If that's what it'll take, yeah."_ _

__He stared at Momota, trying to gauge any hint of dishonesty, and he didn't find any. He'd never thought the other was the type to go back on his word, and it wasn't that he really trusted him, but Ouma did trust his own judgement of other people. And there wasn't an easy way to get out of this- Momota had made it very clear that he wouldn't be driven away as easily as most people were. The best he could do was turn it towards his favour._ _

__"I'll go, but only if you don't bother me again today after that."_ _

__"Deal."_ _

__It wasn't ideal. Ouma wasn't sure _how_ he felt, that anyone was putting in this much effort just to try to help. He wasn't quite sure how he felt towards Momota Kaito, either. Not anymore. But it was a start towards _something._ Maybe that could motivate him enough to keep going._ _

**Author's Note:**

> This started out with intent to go in a H/C direction, but it felt too abrupt, after I got about halfway through. So. At least there's a hopeful ending.
> 
> If Ouma's speech patterns seem a little OOC, that would be the PTSD. Everyone was, understandably, very traumatized post-killing-game. Also, I can't remember what name he uses to refer to Kaito in canon; I improvised.
> 
> I think this would also fit the day 3 prompts well enough, but it was originally meant for day 5.
> 
> Find my writing blog at cliches-and-coffee, and my anime blog at a-logicalruse


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